


Advent of Spring

by fall_into_life



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, Mentioned Freezerburn, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, manual sex, strap-on sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/pseuds/fall_into_life
Summary: Winter thought this was just amazing sex. She's willing to be wrong on that point.A smutty followup toFreeze-Thawbut could be read without it.





	Advent of Spring

Winter pounces the second Yang walks into the mansion, slamming the door shut and pressing her against it. She swallows down Yang’s moan, already pushing her hands up under the other woman’s shirt. Yang’s fingers curl around her hips, rocking against her. Winter knows the pace of their liaisons by now, knows by the hunger in her motions that Yang’s been thinking about her during the entire ride to Schnee Mansion. She’s undoubtedly already aroused; Winter could take her up against the door without much effort. Yang wouldn’t mind. Still, discipline is the foundation Winter has built her life on, and she can wait until they make it back to her bedroom.

Yang doesn’t make it easy for her. Yang’s hips roll against her, and she sucks on Winter’s tongue. Winter’s knees threaten to give out from underneath her, and she seizes Yang’s collar, jerking her backwards. Yang chuckles, her hands coming up to cup Winter’s face and bring her in for another kiss.

They make it through the hall in a blur of motion and heat. Winter trails her nails down Yang’s back, preparation for later, and enjoys the shudder she gets. Yang finds the one extra-sensitive place on Winter’s neck and touches her teeth to it. Winter can barely think through a haze of arousal, yanking open her bedroom door and slamming Yang up against it. The other woman moans, and Winter hears the lock click home. One thing they’ve tacitly agreed upon is to never chance one of the other Schnees walking in on them.

Winter drops to her knees. It’s the work of a moment to pull Yang’s belt off and drop it to the floor, unzipping her jeans and yanking them downward. Yang hisses out her name, hitting her head against the door with a light thud. Winter bites into her hip, one hand keeping Yang still. If she’s not careful, Yang’s hips will buck harder than Winter’s prepared for. It’s happened before.

Snow-white hair tumbles down around her shoulders, and Winter looks up in shock. Yang grins down at her, flushed and lusty but still soft somehow. “You like it,” the younger woman murmurs. Winter loses the pace entirely, somehow expecting that Yang would have forgotten that discussion from months ago. Winter had admitted, after their coupling, that she enjoyed letting a partner take down her hair, liked the intimacy of it. She knows she said partner and not lover or friend, knows she spoke of it in the context of the last relationship she indulged in. Is that… what Yang thinks this is? They barely speak outside of arranging sex, Winter’s confession being one of their rare conversations. Or perhaps that’s what Yang wants this to be. Either way, there’s a discussion to be had, and Winter’s caught between having it now, or after sex. Her mind wants the former, her body the latter.

“Alright, come here,” Yang hooks fingers into Winter’s collar, pulling her upward. “Should probably talk, huh?” Yang crouches down to pull her pants back upward. Her calloused fingers trail up the front of Winter’s neck, then her lips brush the other woman’s. “Let me sit down, okay? My legs aren’t gonna hold me up much longer.”

Winter arranges herself on her bed, crossing her legs with a hidden wince. The situation may be serious, but less than a minute ago she was intending on burying her head between Yang’s legs. It’s going to take a while for the physical signs of arousal to fade. Yang collapses onto the couch across from her, sinking down onto it. They both take time to breathe, letting the energy between them fade into something more conducive to discussion.

“So…” Yang sits up enough to make eye contact. “I… figured you’d like that, but you went all weird on me.”

“It’s intimate,” Winter says honestly. “In a form I didn’t think interested you.”

Yang tilts her head, violet eyes thoughtful. “It interests you. You don’t say that kind of stuff unless you want someone to do it.”

Winter flushes, averting her eyes with a hasty cough. She’s been caught out. Yes, she’s missed that manner of intimacy. She’s been thinking perhaps too much about having a partner again, about trusting someone enough to give them her back. Winter wants to allow someone to take down her hair, to know her well enough to put it back up again in the morning. She’s tired of having a bed that’s only filled when Yang is in town and feeling amorous. And yes, she has occasionally thought that Yang could be that partner. It’s never been a serious thought, not when Yang spent years in and out of Weiss’ bed with no sign of anything formal. She and Weiss have never explicitly discussed it, but she suspects that they’re still intermittent lovers. Perhaps it should bother her, sharing a lover with her sister, but with a lack of commitment on any end, it’s merely a topic she makes a mental note to avoid.

Winter takes a deep breath, forcefully pulling her thoughts back into line. The point is, they’ve been doing this for six months, and Yang has shown no sign she wants anything but sex. Then again, neither has Winter, aside from that singular conversation. This could be the sign. If she allows it to be.

“And it interests you as well,” Winter says, turning back toward Yang. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have done it.”

Yang shrugs, her eyes dropping to the floor. “You have nice hair.” It’s not an answer. It’s not even a particularly skillful evasion.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Winter says, “I’m merely… stating the facts as I know them. I mentioned something I enjoy a partner doing, and you indulged me.”

The other woman purses her lips. “I… I like you, okay? Or I’d like to get a chance to like you.” Her gaze flicks upward. “I only really know what Weiss has said about you, and…” Yang tilts her head toward Winter’s bed. “…and that’s not really… enough. Not enough to know if I like you. But I wanna know.”

Winter makes a snap decision, checking her watch. Still early enough. “Dinner, then. There’s a restaurant nearby that maintains standing reservations for my family.”

Yang blinks rapidly, taken aback. “I… dinner? I mean, I’m not really wearing anything fancy enough for Schnee kinds of places.”

It’s true: her leather jacket, golden yellow tank top, black cargo pants, and clearly well-worn combat boots would normally be enough to get a nose turned up to her at the manner of places her family typically frequents. She’s forgetting something, however.

“With me, you could be wearing whatever you wish,” Winter says, “and they wouldn’t dare refuse you entrance.”

A beat, then Yang throws her head back, laughing. Winter can’t help but watch, her gaze tracing the line of Yang’s throat, the way her shoulders shake as she laughs without reservation.

“Sure, Winter,” Yang says when she finally calms, a broad grin breaking out over her face. “Let’s go scandalize some waiters.”

[*]

Dinner goes far better than she thought it would have. That is, perhaps, an unfair phrasing: she had no expectations for dinner other than a meal with a woman she knows better sexually than socially. She knows Yang only by the implications of their coupling, by the implications of certain acts she enjoys, by how quickly she’s learned Winter’s body. She knows Yang will take control if Winter allows it, but will also allow Winter to have control if she pushes for it. She knows Yang is unbothered by having an arrangement with her after one with Weiss (or perhaps during; again, Winter only has suspicions about Weiss and Yang’s current status), knows her profession and a smattering of her schooling.

During dinner, she finds out more: she learns that Yang is one of the best in her field, learns that her sister Ruby - the same Ruby that Weiss rants about - has had intermittent contracts with Schnee Defense Company. She learns that Yang has a bright, open sense of humor and a clever, sly sense of innuendo. She learns that the only French Yang knows is absolutely filthy, and she’s not ashamed to ask Winter for help translating the menu. By the time they’re down to the bottom of their drinks and only crumbs on their plates, Winter is willing to admit that there’s potential between them.

“Well,” Yang says, when they get back to the Mansion, “normally I know how to handle walking a girl home after our first date, but we’re doing this kind of backward.” She nudges Winter with her shoulder. “I’m not sure if just a kiss and a smile would be a letdown or not.”

Winter turns to face her. She can’t help but laugh at the look on Yang’s face: part lust and part friendly teasing. She’s been laughing a lot, tonight.

“If you’re asking if I’d like to have sex,” Winter says bluntly, “the answer is yes.”

Yang steps into her space, looking up at her through her eyelashes. It’s entirely unfair that she’s so attractive, and so very capable of using their height difference to her advantage.

“Yeah?” Yang breathes, her hands coming up to rest on Winter’s back. The left hand gives Winter five distinct points of heat, the right only pressure. Winter has been in the military far too long to be bothered by a prosthetic, however.

In response, Winter leans down to kiss her, then takes a step back. Yang steps with her, smiling. Winter leads her, step by step, back to her room, navigating the hallway by memory. She opens the door without looking, and Yang follows her in. The door shuts, Winter presses her against it, and Yang slides the lock home.

Winter gets to her knees again, anticipating thudding in her chest. She surprises herself with how much she wants this to play out similarly to the first time. She wants Yang to take her hair down, wants to feel her fingers against her scalp. It’s only been one outing, but she wants that intimacy and more.

With a twist of Yang’s wrist and a flick of her fingers, Winter’s hair comes down again. She can’t help but smile, and Yang’s mouth curls into an answering grin.

“You should tell me what else you like,” Yang suggests, tracing a thumb over her mouth. Winter chuckles, bringing her hands in under Yang’s shirt and asking, “Should I?” Yang nods, the pad of her finger dragging against Winter’s lower lip. Winter pretends to consider, pushing up Yang’s shirt and drawing her fingers along hardened abdominal muscles. She tugs off Yang’s belt once more, murmuring, “Hardly seems fair. You would have two of mine, and I have none of yours.”

Yang laughs breathlessly, her hand coming up to thread fingers through Winter’s hair. “I like… trusting someone enough to let them hold me down.”

Winter pauses. She rests her palms flat on Yang’s stomach, searching her eyes. “Do you?”

The other woman nods, almost shy. “It’s… nice. I like to struggle, but… if they win, and I trust them….”

Heat sears through Winter’s body. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Winter surges to her feet, immediately seizing Yang’s mouth. Yang moans, pushing forward to press their bodies tightly together. Winter turns them so Yang’s back faces Winter’s bed, and she pushes the other woman backward. Yang stumbles a bit, catching her footing a few feet away from Winter.

“Get on the bed,” Winter commands, stalking forward.

A cocky little grin plays over Yang’s lips. “And if I don’t?”

Winter catches up to her, pushing her backward again. This time Yang falls onto the bed, catching herself on her palms. Winter worries for a few seconds, but when Yang meets her eyes, there’s only lust in her gaze, no sign of fear or discomfort.

“I think you misunderstand,” Winter says, standing between Yang’s legs. She leans down to hook her hands under Yang’s knees. “You told me what you want, and I’m going to give it to you, Yang.”

Yang smirks. “You’re going to try.”

Winter pushes her up and onto the bed proper, then gets a grip on Yang’s jacket to flip her onto her stomach. She straddles Yang’s hips, a thigh on either side of her body. Yang squirms underneath her, but it’s just a token struggle, with only a sliver of her strength coming to bear. Winter pulls her hands down to lock them at the center of her back, and Yang moans, breathing heavily.

“What was that?” Winter asks, lust deepening her voice. She can feel her own arousal slicking the inside of her thighs. “Something about my trying to hold you down?”

Yang moves under her for a moment, then goes still, trying to catch her breath. “Okay, maybe you got me this time. Are you… are you gonna…?”

“Fuck you?” Winter asks bluntly. Yang curses under her breath, and Winter smirks. “I might. I have a few ideas for this position, but I’m not entirely certain you won’t move if I attempt them. You are rather… disobedient.”

The other woman whimpers, giving another half-hearted escape attempt. “Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you if I’ll stay still for it.”

Winter shifts, settling first one leg, then the other, between Yang’s. She uses her knees to spread Yang’s legs, then presses her hips against Yang’s rear. Winter leans forward, whispering, “I rather like the idea of penetrating you this way.”

Yang’s breath catches, and Winter watches her jaw work. “You mean… with… a strap-on or something?” When Winter makes an affirming noise, Yang breathes out shakily. “Yeah, okay, I like that too.”

“You’ll stay in place, then?” Winter asks, not really expecting the answer to be yes.

Yang mulls that over, looking at Winter over her shoulder. “I’ll let you put me back like this.”

Good enough. Winter lets Yang’s wrists go, reaching up to pull down the back of her leather jacket. Yang shrugs out of it, helping her, and Winter drops it off of the side of the bed. Just as she thought, Yang tries to flip over as soon as the jacket is off, and Winter presses herself down onto her lover, whispering, “Disobedient.” Yang laughs, reaching up to cup the back of her neck. She whispers back, “You like it,” which is more accurate than Winter feels like acknowledging right now.

Winter thoroughly enjoys their struggle throughout the process of shedding clothes. Yang tries every sneaky trick in the book, it seems like, from bucking her hips suddenly to rubbing against Winter’s center. Every time Winter manages to keep her in place, Yang’s moans deepen, until the sounds coming from her throat rumble out, interspersed with higher-pitched whimpers. It’s tricky to get Yang’s boots off without losing leverage, but she manages, and the rest of her clothes are far easier. Winter slides fingers inside Yang as soon as she’s naked, and that distracts her long enough for Winter to discard the remainder of her own clothing.

“Gonna fuck me?” Yang asks, rutting back against Winter’s fingers. Winter chuckles, murmuring, “If you’ll stay still.” Yang doesn’t answer, which Winter is perfectly aware indicates she won’t. Still, she slides her fingers back out of Yang, and climbs off of the bed.

Winter knows exactly where the dildo she wants is, in the locked bottom drawer of her dresser. She locates her slacks, pulls her keys out of them, and unlocks the drawer. Inside sit a variety of toys and other accessories, but she ignores them in favor of the ice-blue dildo to the far right. It’s double-ended, with a smaller bulb that sits nicely inside her on the rare occasion she uses it. It’s also one of the larger toys she owns (part of the reason it sees little use), but Yang regularly takes three fingers from her, and will be fine.

By the time she settles the dildo inside herself and retrieves a bottle of lubrication, Yang’s propped herself up against Winter’s headboard. She lounges, one hand thrown up over her head and the other leisurely dipping fingers inside herself. Her violet eyes are the darkest Winter’s ever seen them, and the smirk on her face is positively filthy.

“You couldn’t wait?” Winter asks, amused despite herself.

Yang shrugs, hair spilled out over her shoulders. “I wanted something in me.” Her eyes drop down to the dildo where it sits between Winter’s legs. “Could use something bigger, though.”

Winter returns to the bed, crawling up to straddle Yang’s hips. “Here I thought we’d agreed on a position.”

The other woman laughs, taking the lubrication from her and setting it to the side. “Gimme a taste first.” Winter has no idea what she means until Yang squirms downward, shoulders against the headboard and her mouth lined up with the dildo. She traces her tongue along the tip, humming thoughtfully.

She’s never tried this before, having a partner use their mouth on a strap-on. She wouldn’t have thought it would appeal on either end, but judging by the enthusiastic way Yang takes the dildo into her mouth, it certainly appeals to her. And when she looks up, meeting Winter’s gaze, Winter can’t help but moan. There’s something almost obscene about watching Yang’s cheeks distort as she sucks on the dildo, watching her lips move over the shaft. Her hands come up to rest on Winter’s rear, gently guiding her to thrust into Yang’s mouth. Winter breathes out shakily, but moves the way Yang wants her to, bracing herself against the headboard.

Yang pushes her backward with light fingers on her abs, the dildo leaving her mouth with a thin string of saliva still attached. She licks her lips, eyes locking on Winter’s.

True to her word, Yang lets Winter get her onto her stomach again without a struggle. She even spreads her legs when Winter moves between them. There’s a quip about her being eager, but Winter lets it go; she wants this just as badly. She lines up the dildo and pushes it into her lover.

When Winter meets resistance, she stops, reaching for the lubrication. Yang’s hand shoots out, wrapping fingers around her wrist. She pushes herself back to get more of the toy inside her, groaning. Ah. Winter slowly tilts her hips forward, letting Yang feel every inch. The other woman whimpers, but keeps her fingers tight to stop Winter from applying lubrication. When the dildo is fully inside her, Yang pauses, panting. Then she sinks onto the mattress, letting the dildo slip out of her, and lets go of Winter’s hand.

“You like that,” Winter murmurs, squeezing a few drops onto the toy. Yang nods, propping herself up on her elbows, “Feels good. The stretch.” Winter finishes prepping the toy, setting the bottle of lubrication down and readying herself with one hand on Yang’s rear. She pushes inside her again, to another groan from Yang. “Slide is good, too,” Yang pants. She looks over her shoulder, meeting Winter’s eyes. “Fuck me hard?”

Sparks dance up Winter’s spine, and she nods. “Give me your hands.”

Yang presses her face into the sheets, getting up onto her knees. She reaches backward, and Winter catches her hands, crossing them at the small of her back. Winter rolls her hips into Yang’s, pulling a moan out of them both, before setting a fast pace.

Winter loses herself in the give-and-take, the rhythm between them. The toy has a small insert, one that occasionally touches her clit, and while that’s normally not enough, something about this position has it perfectly placed. Every time she thrusts hard enough, Yang groans and Winter hisses out a breath, both of them getting strung higher and higher. Yang’s fingers curl and uncurl, but she doesn’t so much as twitch towards breaking Winter’s grip.

“Fuck,” Yang pants, “Winter, let me ride you.”

Letting her lover’s hands go, Winter rolls onto her back. Yang follows her immediately, kissing her hungrily and rutting up against the dildo. Winter moans, sucking on her tongue. She rakes her nails down Yang’s back, the other woman arching into it. Yang lifts up, one hand getting the dildo into position, then sinks onto it in one smooth motion. Yang throws her head back, sweat trailing down her skin. She’s beautiful, and it strikes Winter just the right way to feel like a punch to the gut.

Then Yang starts to bounce on top of the dildo, jaw slack and eyes half-lidded, watching Winter. The muscles in her abdomen ripple as she moves, and she reaches for one of Winter’s hands to guide it between her legs. They both moan when Winter rubs her clit, sliding over wetness both artificial and natural. She matches Yang’s pace, feeling the other woman’s grip on the dildo tighten. Yang chokes out Winter’s name, stiffening. Winter rolls her hips gently, stilling her hand. After a few moments, Yang slides backwards and off of the dildo, laughing breathlessly.

“That was good,” Yang says, voice nearly a purr. She makes her way down Winter’s body, stroking lazy licks over Winter’s skin as she moves. “Bet you’re pretty close, too.” Winter raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest when Yang swallows down the dildo, cleaning off her own wetness. Winter watches her suck off the remnants of her slick, feeling her own arousal simmer down to something less urgent. “Want me to use it on you?”

Winter shakes her head. “Another time. I want your mouth.”

Yang winks, pulling out the dildo and setting it to the side. “Your wish is my command.” Winter shouldn’t find it charming, but she can’t help laughing before it chokes off into a moan at the feeling of Yang’s tongue.

The other woman always treats her gently, when it comes down to this. They both prefer the rougher side of coupling, but oral is different somehow. Yang licks her in long strokes, sometimes nibbling or sucking, but never at a feverish pace, never roughly. Even when her tongue dips inside Winter, it’s in slow, careful thrusts. Winter sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing into Yang’s attentions. She trusts the other woman to get her there.

Before long, Winter feels a tiny, almost unnoticeable spike of pleasure that indicates an orgasm, if a weak one. Yang doesn’t seem to notice, and Winter lets her continue, fingers tracing Yang’s cheekbones. Yang coaxes a stronger orgasm out of her, and Winter whispers her name, pleasure blacking out her vision.

The other woman moves upward, pressing their bodies together. She props herself up on her elbows, grinning down at Winter from a curtain of golden hair. “Hey.” Winter huffs out a laugh, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin. “So… next time you let me take you out, and fuck your brains out?” Her tone is confident, almost playful, but Winter can see a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

Winter leans up for a kiss, tasting herself on Yang’s lips. “If you can hold me down, you’re welcome to me.” Yang grins. Winter adds, “I’d prefer to choose the restaurant, though. I enjoyed the looks on those around us when they realized who my companion was. Or wasn’t.”

Yang laughs, settling herself on top of Winter more comfortably. She’s very warm, and Winter greedily soaks it up. “The princess and the pauper, huh?”

Raising an eyebrow pointedly, Winter wraps her arms around Yang’s back. “I’ve seen the equipment you carry. You’re hardly a pauper.”

The other woman preens a bit. “Yup. Ruby doesn’t let me go out unless I’ve got the best.”

They continue the banter, comfortable and warm, until the late hour pulls at them both.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Winter offers, trailing her fingers down Yang’s side.

Yang hums, curling into her side. “Thanks. Wasn’t looking forward to riding Bumbleby in the cold after this.” She brushes her lips over Winter’s shoulder. “I’ll thank you for real in the morning.”

Winter laughs, and draws the blankets over them. She drifts off to the sound of Yang’s steady breathing.


End file.
